Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for Buddy my wonder
dog at Wal-Mart and was about to check out. A woman behind me asked if I
had a dog.

What did she think I had an elephant? So since I'm retired, with little to
do, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, and that I was
starting the Purina Diet again. Although I probably shouldn't, because I'd
ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I
awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my
orifices and IV's in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it
works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one
or two every time you feel hungry and that the food is nutritionally
complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that
practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food
poisoned me. I told her no; I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's
ass and a car hit us both.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was
laughing so hard!

WAL-MART won't let me shop there anymore.

(Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the
world to think of crazy things to say.)